


all i want for christmas is you

by bettycooopers



Series: twelve days of barchie [5]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, Post-Season/Series 04, christmas dinner at the cooper jones house
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:00:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28304952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bettycooopers/pseuds/bettycooopers
Summary: Archie’s heard of an orphan Christmas before, but he didn’t actually think he’d have one...at least, not yet.
Relationships: Archie Andrews/Betty Cooper
Series: twelve days of barchie [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2066289
Comments: 2
Kudos: 51





	all i want for christmas is you

**Author's Note:**

> day five! merry christmas eve, everyone! today, archie's eating alone...and fp can't let that stand. 
> 
> per ushe, thank you to my fave fall guy, [becca](https://archiveofourown.org/users/packedyoursaturday), who deserves all the santa suits she wants in this world. 🎄

Archie’s heard of an orphan Christmas before, but he didn’t actually think he’d  _ have _ one...at least, not yet. 

To be fair, he wasn’t supposed to be sitting by himself at Pop’s on Christmas Eve – his mom was supposed to have been back in Riverdale for nearly 24 hours at this point – so the orphan Christmas thing hadn’t been  _ expected _ , but still. He’s poking at the Christmas dinner special (he should’ve just ordered a burger) with his fork when he hears the bell over the door chime, and he peeks over his shoulder to spot FP Jones walking through the door, his sheriff's uniform still on. 

He slides down in his seat, a bit – he doesn’t really know what FP knows, but he’s sure he’s not much of a fan of Archie anymore. That’s what happens when you get caught cheating, he guesses – people tend to take sides.

Anyway, FP and Pop Tate talk for a while, and Archie pushes mashed potatoes around his plate, pretending like he’s going to eat them, and eavesdrops. He doesn’t mean to, really – it’s just that no one else is here, and FP and Pop both have voices that carry...so he can’t help it. Pop heads into the back to get the paperwork he owes FP, something about an outstanding investigation, and he hears FP slip off the stool he’d been sitting on and start walking towards him. 

He slides down further into the booth, hoping he can disappear somehow, when he hears FP clear his throat. “Andrews? That you?”

Archie shuts his eyes, but slides up in the booth and shifts his face so he (hopefully) doesn’t look like he’s fully dreading the sight of the guy. “Hey, Mr. Jones,” he smiles, swallowing and offering out a stiff hand. FP looks down at it, then back up at Archie with a laugh.

“Since when do you call me anything but FP, kid,” he chuckles, shaking his head and pressing his hand into Archie’s, shaking it. “What are you doing? Waiting for someone?”

Archie shakes his head, shrugging a shoulder. “My mom’s flight was delayed, and I...didn’t feel like eating mac and cheese on Christmas Eve, so,” he gestures to the plate, a limp looking piece of ham hanging off of the edge. “Figured I’d keep Pop company, since he’s open.”

“You’re on your own tonight?” FP’s brows are raised, and Archie feels heat creeping up his neck. FP shakes his head, “No, we can’t have that. Pretty sure Alice would chew me out if she found out I left you here on your own on Christmas Eve. Betty, too,” FP scratches at the back of his neck, looking over towards Pop and then back to Archie. Archie tries not to let Betty’s name hit him too hard, but he feels like his ears are rushing, a little. “No, you’re going to have to come with me.”

“I...I don’t think that’s a great idea, FP,” Archie chuckles, keeping his eyes down, “I...I’m sure Betty wouldn’t...that  _ Jughead _ wouldn’t,” Archie stammers, and FP clears his throat.

“Jug’s still at school, and Betty would never want you to spend the holiday  _ here,” _ FP shakes his head. “Trust me, alright? Alice made enough food for a family of ten, and we’re five people...well, five and a half, if you count the twins. You’ll be doing us a favor.”

Archie sighs, then smiles up at FP, feeling resigned. “You’re sure it’s okay? You shouldn’t call and check, or anything,” he lets out a laugh, “or warn them, at least?”

“My house,” FP shrugs, taking a step back. “They’ll just have to live with it. Let me finish up with Pop, and I’ll meet you in the car, alright?” Archie reaches for his wallet and FP shakes his head, pulling his own wallet out. “I’ve got it – I owe you one...think about it. I was going for dinner with Alice, JB, Polly, Betty, and the twins. Dagwood might be a cool kid, but that’s a lot more estrogen than I think I can handle at one meal.” Archie rolls his eyes and FP lets out a laugh, which makes Archie laugh, too. 

“Alright,” Archie shrugs, nodding, “I’ll meet you out there.” 

He’s not exactly sure what he just agreed to, but he’s pretty sure it’s not going to be anywhere near as predictable as a solo dinner at Pop’s.

–

Betty’s trying to get a glob of mashed potatoes out of her hair (it had been a mixing mishap) when she hears the front door open, and FP’s voice floats through the front entryway. She furrows her brow as she drags a clumped up paper towel through her locks again. FP doesn’t typically make a habit of talking to himself, especially not when he’s walking into the house. 

It’s then she hears another voice –  _ Archie’s  _ voice, a voice she’d recognize anywhere...and hasn’t heard in about five months. She drops the paper towel to the ground and feels a dollop of potato drip onto her shoulder. 

Archie’s not allowed to just  _ be in her house _ – especially not on Christmas Eve. Especially not on Christmas Eve, when she hasn’t spoken to him in five months and the last conversation they had made her heart ache to even think about. Especially when she wasn’t sure where they stood, after everything she’d done...everything  _ they’d  _ done.

“Gross, Betty,” Polly frowns, grabbing another towel and starting to work on the hair herself. Betty shoves at her, furrowing her brow and wrenching out of her sister’s reach. 

“Did FP mention anything about bringing someone to dinner?” Betty hears a tone to her voice that she recognizes as panic, but she tries not to let it through too much. 

“No,” Polly says, her brows knit together, “why?”

“Girls,” Alice’s patient voice is already wearing thin, and Betty shuts her eyes, “are you just going to stand there, or are you going to help me?” 

“Betty got potatoes in her hair, I was just trying to–,” Polly starts, at the same time Betty asks, “Mom, did FP say he was bringing someone–,” and Alice glares them both into silence. 

“Are you going to stand there,” Alice says again, her voice now entirely impatient and bordering on angry, “or are you going to help me? Because if you’re just going to stand there, you can get out of the kitchen.”

Betty rolls her eyes, making her way back to the counter and grabbing a wooden spoon, poking at the slightly lumpy mashed potatoes she’d salvaged after the mixing incident. She’s smoothing over the top of the bowl when she hears Archie again, clear as day, saying, “I really appreciate it, FP.” 

She drops the spoon onto the ground, shutting her eyes when she hears Alice groan. 

–

Alice sits Archie next to Betty, placing her hand gently on his shoulder and giving him a thin-lipped smile. Archie’s pretty sure she doesn’t loathe him anymore, but the idea of adding another place setting to her Christmas dinner had definitely annoyed her more than she’d let on. FP didn’t seem to notice – either that, or he didn’t really care. Archie’s hoping, for FP’s sake, it’s the latter.

Betty’s posture is more immaculate than he’s ever seen it – her spine is straight, her feet flat on the floor, her hands folded in her lap, and she hasn’t looked at him even once, yet. She’d given him a stiff hug when he’d walked into the kitchen, mumbling a, “Hey, Arch,” against his cheek, before hurrying up the stairs to change her sweater. 

Otherwise, she’s averted her gaze and kept her mouth shut. He can’t say he’s surprised, exactly, when they’d left things pretty rocky in the beginning of the summer...but he’d figured maybe time had softened things a little bit, or at least made them more clear. He had figured she’d be able to look at him, at least. 

“So, when does your mom get in, Archie?” Polly asks, scooping some green beans onto one of the twins’ plates, then onto Jellybean’s. Jellybean scowls at Polly, then at Archie – he’s pretty sure she’s Team Jughead. Polly is the only one in this family who looks genuinely  _ happy  _ to see him, and he appreciates her for it. He’s pretty sure it’s because Polly enjoys chaos, but at least it’s something.

“Tomorrow, as long as the weather clears up in Chicago. She was going to drive, but,” Archie shrugs, “I told her I’d rather her stay off the roads if it’s that bad. I can handle one Christmas on my own, you know?”

“That’s sweet,” Betty says, her voice soft as she scoops some peas onto her plate, then hands him the bowl without looking. 

Archie shrugs, turning to her and taking the bowl, making sure he looks at her pointedly. Betty swallows, but doesn’t look back at him – instead, she busies herself with grabbing a slice of turkey off of the large platter in the middle of the table. “How’s school been?”

Betty swallows, and Alice clears her throat. He can see Betty trying not to roll her eyes and lets out a little laugh, soft enough that he’s pretty sure – over Juniper and Dagwood’s chattering – she’s the only one who can hear it. “Fine,” she says, her voice quiet. “It’s a lot of work, actually.”

“It’s Yale, Betty,” Archie chuckles. “I didn’t think it would be like clown college.”

Betty frowns at him, rolling her eyes, and then seems to realize what she’s done. She snaps her head back to her plate and Archie smiles, chewing on the inside of his cheek. At least she’s still in there. 

“So, Archie,” FP says around a bite of mashed potatoes, “how long are you back in Riverdale?” Alice sighs, putting her hand over FP’s and he smiles over at her, then turns back to Archie.

“A couple weeks,” Archie smiles, putting some turkey onto his own plate. “It was just going to be a week, but they had an issue down at the Community Center...something with the roof, from the snow a few weeks back – they asked if I could recommend anyone, and I said I’d be here if they just wanted my help, so,” he shrugs. “Always happy to get back there, you know?”

FP nods, a smile on his face. “You remind me so much of your dad, sometimes,” he chuckles, shaking his head, “sometimes it’s like looking through a time machine. Well...except the redhead part.”

He smiles, his eyes on his food. He’s used to things like this from FP – and he doesn’t mind it, either...it’s nice to hear from someone who actually  _ knew  _ his dad. Betty, on the other hand, snaps her head up and he can tell she’s glaring at FP, hard. “Betts,” he mumbles, putting his hand on her forearm lightly, brushing his thumb over the crease of her elbow, “it’s fine.” Betty looks down at his hand, then up at him for the first time all night. Her eyes are wide, and he sees her suck in a breath. “I’m fine,” he smiles, “I promise.”

Betty nods, then looks pointedly back at Archie’s hand on her arm. He clears his throat and pulls it away, settling it on the arm of his chair. “Thanks, FP,” he says, ignoring the knowing look in FP’s eyes.

They manage to have some semblance of casual conversation as they finish the dinner, the twins chiming in every few minutes to argue over who’s eaten more vegetables, or who gets more cookies after dinner. Alice and Polly are clearing the plates, Betty standing up to help them when Alice gives her a look Archie can’t read. Betty sighs, staying seated.

“How’s Jug doing,” Archie asks, after a long bout of stiff silence, keeping his eyes on FP. Betty flinches, and he smiles over at her. 

“He’s good. He’s liking it out in Iowa – even has a girl he’s been talking to,” FP grins. “Calls me like twice a week, though...I get the feeling he misses me, even if he won’t say it.”

“I’m sure he does,” Archie chuckles, then swallows. FP being so casual about Jughead talking to a girl is...well, interesting.

“Have you heard...from Veronica,” Betty says, her voice soft. He looks over at her and she’s looking at him again, worry etched into her features.

“Once,” he nods, “we...she told me she’s not holding onto the anger anymore. It’s a part of the new her, or something...and she wanted to let me know, so I didn’t beat myself up too hard. She...she actually asked me to tell you, too, but,” he swallows, shrugging. “I didn’t think you’d…,” 

“Thank you,” Betty cuts him off, sliding her chair out from the table, “for...letting me know.”

“Betty,” Archie sighs, moving to stand up. She puts her hand up and shakes her head.

“I’m just going to go help them,” Betty tilts her head towards the kitchen, “you stay. Sit. You deserve...to relax a bit.”

Archie frowns, looking over at FP, who shrugs and leans back in his chair. He waits for Betty to be out of earshot before he says, “Give it time, Andrews,” with a shrug. “The Cooper women have to come to you.”

–

Betty doesn’t know exactly what to do with all the information she’s gathered tonight, but it occurs to her as she’s slicing a piece of pumpkin pie to hand off to Archie that she shouldn’t be punishing herself anymore – and she certainly shouldn’t be punishing  _ him. _

They’d done what they’d done, and they’d both known it was...well,  _ bad.  _ But they’d done it, anyway, and it had blown up in their faces. They’d lost enough as it was...and she wasn’t sure why losing each other had been such a big part of the fallout.

It occurs to her, absently, that if they’d been willing to throw everything away for each other, they should probably still have  _ each other. _

Anyway, Archie finishes off two slices of Alice’s pie and sits in for Jellybean through a game of Candy Land with the twins before sliding back from the table and rocking back on his heels a bit. “I should probably get going,” he says, hooking his thumb over his shoulder, “can’t...be up too late, Santa’s supposed to stop by later.” 

Betty shuts her eyes, her heart thudding in her chest. She doesn’t understand why Archie has to be so _...Archie  _ all the time. So sweet, and dorky, and familiar – like the best friend she's known practically her whole life, and missed all these months. “Thanks,” he continues, “so much for having me, though. I really...really appreciate it.”

“Of course, Archie,” Alice says, her voice softer, now. FP grins at him and stands up, pulling Archie into a hug. 

“You’re always welcome here, kid,” FP says, his voice low enough that Betty can barely make it out. 

“Let me walk you home, Arch,” she says, her mouth moving quicker than her brain. She feels her cheeks go a little warm and smiles up at Archie, who’s looking down at her in surprise. 

“You don’t have to, Betts,” he’s saying, but Betty is already up, heading towards the shoe rack at the door to grab her sneakers. She slips her feet into her shoes, then pulls on her jacket and holds his own out for him. 

“Come on,” she smiles, shrugging, “since I didn’t get you a Christmas gift.”

Archie walks over, taking his coat. “Well, that’s a shitty way to let me know,” he mumbles, and she laughs over at him, her brows high on her forehead. They make their way out of the Cooper house and across the driveway, Archie raising his brows at her as she puffs out a breath and watches it float in the cold air. “My stop,” he chuckles, nodding to the house. “Want...to come in for a few? I can make hot cocoa.”

Betty chews on her lower lip, thinking for a moment and then nodding before she can think better of it. “I get more marshmallows than you, though,” she notes, as they walk through the side door and into the kitchen. 

“So, you  _ haven’t  _ changed, then,” he chuckles, flipping on the kitchen lights and smiling over at her as he roots through the cabinets, pulling down two mugs they’d painted in a ceramics class in eighth grade. 

“Remember when your dad used to sit us up at the counter when we were kids and make us cocoa,” Betty smiles, her voice soft. “We’d come in all sweaty in our snow suits and whine that cocoa was too  _ hot _ , and he’d–,” 

“He’d be like,  _ just wait, kiddos,”  _ Archie chuckles, imitating Fred a little too well, “and by the time we were all settled, we’d have cooled down and the cocoa would just be  _ ready.” _

“The perfect temperature, every time,” Betty shakes her head,  _ “every  _ time, like clockwork. I still don’t know how he did it.” 

“Me neither,” Archie sighs, pulling his hand through his hair and giving her a small smile, “guess it’s just Fred’s secret, now, you know?” He fiddles with the hot chocolate packets, tapping them on the counter sharply. “Want to go find something to watch? I’ll bring these,” he nods his chin towards the mugs, “in there when they’re ready.” 

Betty’s about to bring up just hanging in here, like old times, but she sees the look on Archie’s face and smiles at him, instead. “Sure, Archie,” she says, her voice soft. If he wants to sit on the couch and watch a movie, she’s not going to fight him – she’s fought him enough, this year, she thinks. 

Betty’s flipping through channels when Archie walks in and sets two steaming mugs on the coffee table, one with a noticeably larger pile of marshmallows sitting on the top. “Excellent,” she grins, and she bites the inside of her cheek as Archie laughs, settling in next to her. They sit in a comfortable silence for a few long moments, and then Betty looks over at Archie, her eyes falling over the side of his face. He doesn’t look any different, not really, but she loses her breath a little at the sight of him – at Archie, here, so close to her. “Hey Arch,” she says, her voice soft. 

“Hmm?” He keeps his eyes on the tv, and she realizes how much she wants him to look at her.

“Do you have a blanket?” She smiles as he turns and looks at her, his face a bit concerned.

“You cold?” He sits up, reaching over the back of the couch and pulling a blanket out – a blanket she’s pretty sure  _ she’d  _ bought to keep here, at some point. He stretches the blanket out and reaches around her, draping it over her shoulders and wrapping it around her gently. 

His face is close to hers, and Betty lets herself look at his mouth, lets him  _ notice  _ her looking at his mouth. “Better now,” she murmurs.

“Betts,” she looks up at his eyes and he’s shut them. His voice sounds worried, and she sighs out a breath.

“I’m sorry, Arch,” she shakes her head. “I’m sorry I didn’t...that we haven’t talked.” He opens his eyes and she smiles sadly at him. “I just needed time to think, I think.”

“You think?” He raises his brow and she lets out a little dry laugh. Betty nods. “What did you need to think about?”

Betty swallows, letting her eyes travel back to his mouth. She sighs, chewing on her lower lip. She knows he’s looking at her mouth, too. “You,” she whispers. “About how to tell you that I’m always going to need you to give me more marshmallows, mostly.”

She hears Archie let out a sound she doesn’t totally recognize, and before she can convince herself not to, she pulls the blanket around herself tighter and then swings her leg over him, settling herself into his lap. His hand dips into her hair and she shuts her eyes. “I can do that,” he murmurs, his mouth close to hers. “Not a problem.”

Betty nods and then closes the gap between them, kissing him slowly, her hands pressed to his cheeks. Archie’s lips are soft against hers, one hand in her hair, the other pulling her into him, pressed to the middle of her back. Betty sighs into the kiss, slipping her tongue into his mouth as she slides her hands down to his neck, wanting him as close as she can get him. 

She pulls back for just a second, giggling as she catches her breath when he murmurs, “Can you be my Christmas gift, instead? The walk home was kind of lame.”

She smacks a hand against his chest, but nods before she leans in, kissing him again.  "That, and the hot chocolate," she laughs, murmuring, "Merry Christmas, Arch. “ She figures they can put the hot chocolate in the microwave if it gets too cold – absently, before her mind goes blank, she wonders if that was Fred’s secret all along.

**Author's Note:**

> you can follow me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/bettycooopers) or [tumblr](https://bettycooopers.tumblr.com) if you feel like watching me break down in real time!


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